


The Bet, or The Tales of Prince Not-So-Charming

by shroomfairy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Eren/Armin on the side, M/M, first time gay sex, modern day AU, porn with bits of plot?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:39:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shroomfairy/pseuds/shroomfairy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean should know better than to make bets with Eren. Although, this particular bet might result in quite the unexpected outcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bet, or The Tales of Prince Not-So-Charming

“What do women want? Can somebody please tell me!?” Jean whined—actually whined!— dramatically resting his head on a textbook.

Women sucked.

”You want some cheese with that whine!?”

“Shut up, Jäger...” 

Jean’s words were lacking their usual spite. Not even the prospect of bickering with Eren seemed to lift his spirits today; and it wasn’t for a lack of trying on his part. Or Eren’s, for that matter. 

Life sucked. Big time!  
Especially his love life.  
His non-existent love life.

Also, no, women did not suck. Not per se. Not really. What sucked was that he didn’t seem capable of keeping one for more than a few make-out sessions. His success with the fairer sex over the past year came down to two one-night-stands—one of which he wished he could erase from his memory—and three kind-of attempts at dating, of which the longest had lasted a measly seven weeks. Who wouldn’t end up depressed with such a poor track record?

To add insult to the injury, he’d just got ditched by his quasi date for the evening. Apparently, she had to study. They’d gone out twice, and nothing more than a smooch on the cheek had happened. Ever since Date Number Two, she’d stopped messaging him. Well, safe for that one time, about ten minutes ago, where she’d informed him she wouldn’t be available tonight. Definitely a new low!

 _Studying, my ass!_ Yeah, right. He got the _message_. Loud and clear!

“Why can’t I get laid?!” More uncharacteristical whining. 

Armin sighed. Eren rolled his eyes.

“I mean, seriously! I’m funny. I’m easy-going. I’m hot! What’s not to like?!” 

“You’re also fucking annoying!” Eren let out an exasperated sigh. “Can I please kill him!?” Here, he turned to his boyfriend.

Armin shrugged, “You could come with us later?”

“To a gay party? Really? How am I supposed to get laid at a gay party!?” Jean grunted and sat up.

“Insert random joke about the average IQ of blonds here. Especially fake ones!”

“Eren!” Armin gave his lover a gentle shove.

“Sorry, babe, that wasn’t directed at you. You’re smart, and I love you! Plus, I know you’re a natural!”

Jean pulled a face. Eren Jäger, biggest sack of shit to roam the Earth—okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but who cared?—he was the most annoying when he got all lovey-dovey with Armin, his partner of almost four years. Jean couldn’t deny being jealous of them. Not so much when it came to Armin because Armin was sweet and kind, and one of his best friends. Armin deserved happiness. Okay, Eren didn’t really deserve to be unhappy either, but he most definitely deserved a kick in the shins every now and then! Right now was such a time.

“Look, Jean, it’s no good for you to sit around all day, moping. Just come with us. It’ll take your mind off of things,” Armin tried helpfully. 

“Yeah, and don’t worry. Your ass will be safe. No one’s gonna come on to you. Horse-faces aren’t really a thing in the gay community. We’re more into guys who are _hung_ like horses,” Eren added not-so-helpfully.

“Very funny. Excuse me while I’m laughing!” Narrowing his eyes, Jean glared at him. “You ever look into a mirror, shitface?! I know for a fact that I could score way more men than you!”

“Thanks, I’ve already got one. And don’t make me laugh. You couldn’t get a guy, even if your life depended on it!”

“Screw you!”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“You bet your sorry ass I do!”

Now it was Armin’s turn to roll his eyes. His boyfriend and Jean, they could be quite irritating at times, not to mention exhausting. Putting on his headphones, he opted out of the conversation. He’d done his part. Let them snap at each other all they wanted. 

”More, like, betting _your_ sorry ass!” Eren snorted.

”Haha!” Jean crossed his arms, “I’ll show you!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You’ll fucking see!”

Eren leant back in his chair, smug smile and all, “Ah, but you’d at least have to get him to kiss you. Knowing you, you’d pay some random dude to act all hot ‘n bothered!”

“Would not!” 

“Would, too!” Eren made a thoughtful pause before he continued, “Okay, so how about I’m gonna pick that lucky fellow. You know, just to make sure you’re not gonna try and cheat?”

“Whatever!” 

“With tongue, baby.” Did Eren just fucking wink at him? What a twat!

“Sure thing!” Jean’s face darkened several shades, trying to tell himself that a kiss was just a kiss. Even if it was with a man. Plus, if it made Eren shut up, why the hell not? “I’ll deliver by midnight!” 

“You’ll have frenched a guy, of my choosing, by midnight? Okay. Deal.”

“So long as he’s not Ugly Duckling of the Year.” 

“Got it, Cinderella. I’ll find you your Swan Prince.”

“Fuck you!”

In the back of his mind, Jean knew this was a stupid idea, but he just couldn’t help himself, determined to prove Eren wrong. At least, it would help him forget about the girl who had just broken his heart. Well, his pride, if he was to be honest. It wasn’t as if he’d known her for that long.

 

~

 

The line in front of the club Eren and Armin took him to was ridiculously long. Face set in a scowl, Jean stood there. He hated waiting, and from the looks of it this was going to take a while. 

“Forgot to ask: what kind of music are they gonna play? I seriously hope it’s not just 80s or Disco crap, or something. Nothing against the gay community, but that shit is fucking annoying!”

“It’s 2014, doucheface,” Eren growled. “We’re not some shitty, outdated cliché anymore!”

“Guys, could you please stop it already!”

Eren and Jean had spent the whole way to the club fighting with one another. Eren had been unable to resist inquiring about Jean’s thoughts on possibly getting his “anal cherry” popped tonight, while Jean refused to stop listing reasons for why the party was going to suck and how much of a shit Eren was in general.  
Needless to say, Armin’s patience was running dangerously thin by now, and the man usually had an abundance of it; more than enough for the three of them.

“So, what does the man of your dreams look like?” Eren asked after two minutes of blissful silence, arm around his partner.

“I dunno?!” Jean had no idea of what he’d find attractive in another man. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. Until now.

“You gotta give me something to work with here, or are you telling me you’re pussying out?”

“I’m not!”

“Then give me something!”

“Oh, what do I know!? Tall? Tanned? No crispy chickens, though! Dark hair? No beards or anything. I hate stubble! Oh, and not too beefy, but not as scrawny as your sorry ass either. Definitely not as scrawny!” 

“You do realise you’re scrawnier than I am, in comparison.”

”Get fucked, Jäger.”

“Okay, let's see: tall, dark hair, natural tan, no beards, _not_ built like _you_ , but no Vin Diesels either. What else?” Eren continued. “You mind freckles?”

Now Armin did perk up. “Uhh, Eren—“

“What about freckles?!” Jean interrupted him. “I don’t give a shit about freckles.”

“So, you don’t mind them either?”

Jean shrugged, wondering what Eren was on about now. “Couldn’t care less.”

“Eren, what are you—“

Here, his lover covered Armin’s mouth with one hand. “Good. Cause I think I’ve got just the right guy for you.”

A funny feeling nestling in his stomach, Jean turned away from the two. “Whatever. He better be hot, or I won’t—“

“Yeah, yeah, got it.” Eren took out his phone to text someone. “And he _is_ hot! You can trust me on that! Right Armin?”

Armin pretended not to know either of them.

Jean frowned. Just what was that idiot planning? Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to let Eren Jäger of all people choose potential make-out partners for him.

 

Once inside the club—a whopping 45 minutes had passed since their arrival—Jean rejoiced, for they indeed didn’t play any cheesy pop tunes from last millennium’s worst decades of fashion and music combined. Instead, he was greeted by the hypnotising beats of Minimal and House. Kudos to the DJ.  
It occurred to him that he might have judged the present-day gay community too soon where music was concerned. Further proof that television only told you lies.

Armin and Eren introduced him to their friends. Mostly gay men, safe for one lesbian couple. At first, Jean wondered if Eren might have been talking about one of the girls currently standing before him. She was tall, had a tan, dark hair, and freckles. A lot of freckles. His confusion and birthing joy were crushed fairly quickly, though, as the girl in question—Ymir—turned out to be 100% into women. The tiny, cute blonde she had her arm around being irrefutable proof of that. Bummer!

Then there were Reiner and Bertholdt. 

“Yeah, not someone like that,” Jean told Eren. “He looks as if he could squash me like a bug with all those muscles!”

Eren assured him Reiner wouldn’t be interested in silly, little twinks like him anyway, even if he weren’t already involved with Bertholdt.

“Yeah, not someone like him either. Too tall!”

Eren rolled his eyes. “For a straight guy, you’re extraordinarily picky, you know that?! Maybe that’s why you can’t get a woman! Ever thought about that?!”

 

Half an hour later, Jean stood at the bar, beer in one hand. 

He had to say he quite enjoyed this club. He liked its interior design; not too flashy, but still classy, without being overly posh. The music was good, the soundsystem even better. People were nice, and Eren had yet to be an ass about the whole bet thing. 

Letting his eyes wander across the crowd, absentmindedly moving to the beat of the current track blasting from speakers all around them, Jean checked for any potential candidates that fit his description plus freckles.  
However, there weren’t any freckled South European type of guys to be seen anywhere. Such a combination was quite rare as it was. Most freckled people didn’t really tan.

Something akin to nervousness began to stir inside of him. Over some stupid bet! Oh please! Jean mentally kicked himself. Besides, he and Eren had pulled crap like this on each other since they first met. In second grade, Eren dared him to kiss his adoptive sister Mikasa, and Jean had ended up with a broken nose. In third grade, Jean dared Eren to buy an adult magazine. Eren had got grounded for two months, after the store called his parents, telling them their precious son had just tried to steal a hardcore gay porn magazine. The list of stupid things they’d made each other do was incredibly long. There really was no reason, no excuse, for him to feel anxious now.

“So, your plan’s getting wasted?”

“It’s one beer, loser!”

“Aha, it better be! Otherwise, I’d consider that cheating, too, you know. Jerk.”

“Just for your information, it’s already 11pm, and you have yet to show me that _so-hot-he-even-makes-straight-boys-cream-their-boxers_ buddy of yours. Can’t lose the bet for you, if you don’t deliver!”

Eren bestowed him with a self-satisfied grin, “Aww, are we getting impatient for our first passion-filled night with a man, Cinderella?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it! And stop calling me that!” 

What was it with that weird, tingling sensation Eren’s words had just set loose in his stomach?

“Don’t worry, Cinderella. He’s here all right.”

Fingers tightening around the beer bottle, Jean glared at him. “Okay, and where might ‘here’ be?”

“Over there, talking to Reiner and Ymir.”

From where he stood, Jean couldn’t see much, safe for some darkhaired guy whose back was turned to them. Looked to be about his height, maybe a little taller. It was hard to tell from a distance.

“Who is he anyway?”

“Just a friend.”

”Eren Jäger, whoring out his friends—”

“Maybe I’m just trying to play matchmaker, you bitch!”

Jean disgruntedly informed Eren that he may be desperate, and perhaps just a little bit curious, but still not gay.  
Eren ignored him and waved at Reiner, before pointing at the mystery friend. Out of reflex, Jean whirled around to face the bar. No, his heartbeat was not speeding up. No, he was not nervous either. He also wasn’t shy. Nope.

One look at the display of his watch told him it was 23:07. How was he supposed to get this done in 53 minutes? Even if he were to find that guy to be the hottest thing since sliced bread! 

“Listen, Jäger. How about we raise the stakes, and make it two o’—“ He turned to his not-friend, only to stare right into a pair of warm, brown eyes, framed by dark bangs, and freckles. And an undeniably handsome face. “Uhh—“

Okay, so Eren hadn’t lied about the dude’s looks. Great.

“Marco, this is Jean; our token straight guy. Jean, meet Marco.”

Jean’s face fell. Of course, the asshole would go and try to ruin whatever chances he might have had before he could even get started.  
With one stupid line, he’d just made sure that this Marco was going to keep a safe distance from him. Jean wouldn’t be surprised, if he were to think he might be uncomfortable around gay men, too, considering the introduction.

Marco surprised him though, smiling at him and shaking his hand as if Eren had never lost a single word about his sexuality, “Nice to meet you.”

Okay, really not bad on the eyes, that one. If he were gay, Jean could have seen himself falling for a guy like him. Maybe.  
Marco was a few centimetres taller than he was, his build a little more defined than his own. His clothing style was elegant without showing off. And he had the nicest smile Jean had ever seen. Had Marco been a girl, Jean would’ve called that smile cute.

Screw maybe. Make that _definitely_.

“So, what do you think?” Eren asked, loud enough for Marco to hear it, too. 

God, he wanted to kick him!

“I think you’re a douche!” Jean snarled, elbowing him hard.

“Not what I asked, Cinderella,” Eren elbowed him right back.

Marco looked from one to the other, a little confused, but also amused. 

“Go away!”

“No-go, or hell yeah?”

“The latter! Now sod off!”

Jean knew he’d just dug his own grave. Eren was never going to let him live that one down.

“I’ll see you in 48 minutes then!” Eren made to leave, a huge, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face.

“Wait!” 48 minutes weren’t enough by a long shot. “You gotta give me more time! It took us forever to get in, and—and—!”

Eren stopped and looked at him, arms crossed in front of his chest, “You’re chickening out.”

“Dude! It’s almost midnight! You can’t expect me to—I haven’t even—!”

“Now it’s only 47 minutes. Clock’s ticking!”

“What happens at midnight?” Marco inquired, sipping on the drink he’d just ordered. 

“At this rate, nothing,” Eren grinned, then made to leave for good, without looking back once. “Later, loser!” 

Jean gnashed his teeth. He couldn’t believe that asshole!

“That was directed at me...” 

“Oh, I got that.”

 _Of course you did._

46 minutes. Fuck! He was never going to pull this off.

“Oh, and just to clarify, I did not ask him to tell people I’m straight!” 

Marco laughed. It was a soft, hearty laugh, Jean noticed, warm and without any malice in it.

“I couldn’t care less who wants to do what with whom, or I wouldn’t be here.” He continued, wildly gesticulating.

His ranting went uncommented. 

”So, what’s the deal with midnight?”

“Ugh, nothing. Just some stupid bet I made with an idiot.”

“Mhm, gathered as much.”

 _Well, aren’t you observant,_ Jean thought, angry at himself for having agreed to any of this. Why did he always let Eren get to him anyway? It had been that way since kindergarten. Not to mention, he always, _always_ got the short end of the stick when it came down to it. The porn mag dilemma, for example. Of course, Eren had blabbed to his parents about how it all had been Jean’s idea. In the end, both of them had been grounded for two months, but, on top of it, Jean had received a solid spanking.

“See, I have shit luck with women, and he claims I’m so pathetic I couldn’t even get a guy interested in me. Like, I couldn't even get one to kiss me and shit!” 

Why was he telling a complete stranger the woeful tale of his love life?

“You’re straight, but you agreed to a bet where you’d have to kiss another man?” Marco’s “if he were a girl it would be cute”-smile turned into a grin, eyes lighting up with amusement. “That’s—interesting.”

 _When you put it like that..._

“It’s just a kiss. No big deal. We’re talking about my pride as a man here!”

Marco shot him a look Jean couldn’t quite decipher, but then he chuckled, shaking his head. More than anything, he appeared to be amused.

“And I am well aware of how stupid all of this must sound to you. I just...” Jean halted midsentence, eyeing Marco. An idea began to form in his head. Maybe there was a way to turn this mess in his favour. “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know someone willing to uhh—“

“Willing to do what?”

“Well, you see, I only have 42 minutes left,” Jean gave his watch a dramatic look.

“42 minutes, huh?”

Okay, what was up with that grin? His first impression of Marco had been that he was the nice, kind type. Quiet, maybe even shy. Sort of like Armin. Right now, though, there was an undeniably mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah, 42. The Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything, hah!”

Marco’s laugh had a calming effect on him; something Jean found beyond weird. Normally, he hated people laughing at him. Not that Marco was laughing at him, rather he was laughing at the situation Jean so voluntarily had put himself in.  
And could he have blamed the man for it? No. If he hadn't been the one stuck in this mess, Jean would’ve laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, too.

“So—you know someone willing to help me make Eren shut up, or not?”

“You think he’ll actually do that if you go through with this?”

Dude had a point there.

“Won’t know till I tried!”

Jean couldn’t help but wonder what was going through Marco’s head. Even more so, he wondered why the man hadn’t just left him standing there yet. Picturing himself in Marco’s stead, Jean would think of himself as the biggest, most childish loser to roam this planet, not worth his time and energy.

40 minutes.

Then it rained down on him. _Jäger, you sneaky son of a bitch..._

“Earlier, I saw him texting someone. That someone was you, wasn’t it?”

“Excuse me?” Marco looked at him, bearing the most innocent expression he’d ever seen. Full of surprise and confusion, too. Pulled it off better than Armin even. Jean did not buy into it for one second.

“That little... He set me up!”

Marco leant against the bar, emptying his drink and ordering another. “What makes you think so?”

“Because he’s a sore loser, that’s why!”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, come on! It’s obvious he told you about this—me—and then he told you to—“ In his head, it made perfect sense. Eren had asked Marco to play along with that little plan of his, like, pretend to be interested and string him along et cetera, just so that he’d miss the deadline.

However, when Jean tried to put any of this into actual words, it sounded beyond ridiculous.  
Eren could be a little shit at times, but he wasn’t _evil_. As much as they fought with each other, at the end of the day he did consider him a friend. Sort of. While pondering all this, Marco pulled out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and showed him Eren’s message.

 _Jägerlein wrote: ‘yo bodty u at da club tonite’_

Oh.  
Oh shit.  
Now, that was embarrassing.  
That was very, very embarrassing.

The levels of embarrassment Jean felt upon reading Eren’s text even let him ignore the man’s atrocious spelling and lack of punctuation for the moment, though he did snigger at ‘Jägerlein’. How very fitting! Tiny bastard that he was!

“Uhm... Okay. Wow. Haha. Aren’t I stupid?!” He tried, hands held up in a defensive manner. “Uhh, any chance you’d let me backpedal here, man?”

“Hm, maybe,” Marco said, appearing to look thoughtful. “If you tell me what exactly is going on here.”

38 minutes.  
37.  
36...

During which, struggling with himself, Jean laid out before him the nature of the bet itself, what the agreement was, as well as the rules. The hardest part was to tell Marco that he fit the description Jean had given Eren, sans freckles, _of course_. Wouldn’t want to be too obvious here, right?

“It appears we’ve both been set up, in a way.”

Not the kind of reply Jean had expected.

“Huh, what!? So, you’re not gay either?”

“Oh no, I am. I’m as gay as they come. It’s just, ever since I broke up with my ex, I haven’t exactly been out there, looking. My friends have been on my back about it for months now.”

Jean frowned. “But why would he set you up, with me? I mean—I’m not—I wouldn’t—you couldn’t— _oh fuck me_! I don’t know how to put this without sounding like an ignorant little shit.”

Marco shook his head, back to smiling again, “Don’t worry about it.”

The man’s calmness pertaining to Eren’s little prank surprised Jean. If it were him, he’d be pissed off beyond compare, to say the least. Just imagining being introduced to someone, perhaps even getting your hopes up—after all, Marco had yet to leave—only to find out you never, ever, not in a million years, would have had even the slightest chance with the person in question to begin with.

“Though I have to say, he wasn’t wrong about your looks. You a model or something?” Where did that come from all of a sudden?

Marco grinned, “No. No, I’m not. But thanks, Jean.”

What a lame thing to say, really. Tell something like that to a girl, and her legs would be closed to you forever.  
Luckily, the black lights did a good job at hiding the blush creeping to his cheeks. Wait, what? Why was he blushing? Diversionary tactics were needed.

31 minutes.

“So, what is it that you do?” 

Marco was attending law school. He had a part-time job at a law firm, headed by his grandfather. His whole family worked in the law business.  
Jean learnt Marco’s ex, with whom he had been together for almost five years, had proven to be an asshole of massive proportions, even if Marco didn’t put it that way. Bastard had been cheating on him with multiple men, for the majority of their relationship. What surprised Jean the most, though, was how easily he fell into an actual conversation with the other man. Jean barely noticed how quickly he was down to three minutes before midnight.

“So, that bet of yours. Any ideas yet?” Was Marco able to read thoughts?

“Ehh, I’ll admit defeat, I guess. Time’s nearly up, and I haven’t exactly been looking or anything, now have I?”

Marco cocked his head, “You give up that easily? Really? You still have three minutes left.”

“Yeah, but I can’t just go and grab some random dude—” Staring at Marco, Jean gripped his beer bottle tightly. By now, it was almost empty, its remaining contents stale and warm. “Oh.” _Oh boy_.

“You said he’d be calling you Cinderella for the rest of your life. Now, I can’t let that happen, can I?”

“My knight in shining armour, eh?” He joked, voice trembling lightly. _Uh-oh._

Marco set down his drink, edging a little closer. “If you want to look at it that way.” 

Suddenly, his mouth felt dry. That look he’d just given him? The definition of bedroom eyes, if one was to ask Jean.  
This whole thing had started out as an admittedly poor joke, and he’d have gone through with it, too—no problem—if Eren hadn’t introduced him to a guy as nice as Marco. Crap! 

Two minutes.

Should he take the offer?

“He said it doesn’t count if it’s not a real kiss, like, you know, with tongue.”

“So you have told me.”

Jean gulped, downing the nasty remnants of his beer, and pulling a face at the disgusting taste. 

“You sure about that?”

“It’s just a kiss, right?” A hand came to lie on his shoulder, gentle but strong. “That’s what you said.”

One minute.

“Yeah, I guess—?” Tick tock. “Okay, alright.”

Everything around him became a blur then. Silken lips connected with his, warm and smooth. Without hesitation, Jean parted his own, inviting Marco’s tongue inside his mouth. The hand on his shoulder moved to cup the back of his head, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. 

Were another man’s lips supposed to feel this soft?  
Jean couldn’t help a quiet moan, eyes fluttering shut.

The kisses quickly evolved into more passionate ones, and soon he was holding on to Marco’s shirt, their tongues now engaged in a most intimate play.  
An all too familiar heat began to ripple through him, causing waves of lust, rising and rising. Ever multiplying, spreading throughout his whole being with each second of Marco exploring his mouth.

Okay, hold on! That was not how he’d expected this to go. That was not how kisses worked, usually. Well, at least not as quickly. Right? Oh God!

 _I’ve only just met this guy, like, not even an hour ago! And he’s a guy! What the hell?!_

Why was he having his arms around him? And what was his body thinking, pressing itself into Marco’s in such a wanton fashion? Not that Jean could’ve stopped himself, returning the kisses with just as much vigour.

 _Screw it! I like this! Who gives a fuck if it’s with a man!?_

Jean wasn’t someone to question pleasure, never had been, nor had he ever ruled out the possibility of ever finding another man attractive. Sure, it wasn’t something he’d usually busy his thoughts with, and, thus far, he had thought it highly unlikely to actually ever come across one, but hey! One thing he knew for certain was that nothing ever truly was just black or white. What exactly did straight mean anyway? Or gay? Taken in their original sense, neither of those words applied to human sexuality in any way, shape, or form. He wasn’t a linguist or philosopher, but in his opinion, you didn’t need to be one to understand as much. Also, Marco was nice. Like, really, really nice! He’d endured his ramblings which Jean had been told could be quite tiring, not to mention annoying. He’d offered to conspire against Eren, too—well, at least kind of. 

And, he be damned, the man knew how to kiss! Once Marco broke away, all Jean could do was stare at him, completely floored.

“ _There_ ,” he whispered, winking. “Just in time.”

Jean wanted to say something in return, but then his eyes fell on Eren, who was standing right behind them; eyes wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar.

“I’ll be fucked,” was all his nemesis slash friend got out.

Something in Jean’s brain shortcircuited then—it must have—for he yanked Marco towards him again, crushing his lips to his almost possessively.

“ _My, you’re flattering me, Jean,_ ” Marco whispered against his mouth. His hands had wandered to his hips, to rest there, steady and firm.

At first, Jean thought he was talking about him wanting to resume their kisses, but then he noticed just how tight his jeans had grown over the past few minutes. Instead of letting embarrassment get the better of him, Jean decided to accept the facts as they were.  
He’d enjoyed kissing Marco. He’d enjoyed kissing another man, to the point where it had got him hard. And he wanted more!

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Jean growled, lust dripping from every syllable. When he looked over Marco’s shoulder, Eren was still there, now with Armin next to him, disbelief displayed on their faces. Not that he cared. “Let’s find a more comfortable place.”

That said, he grabbed Marco’s wrist and dragged him to a nearby couch. Pushing him down on it, Jean proceded to sit on his lap.

“This is a quite an unexpected outcome, if I may say so—“

“No kidding!” Less talking, Jean thought, and continued where they’d left off, attacking his mouth with more fierce kisses.

Marco complied only too happily, pulled him into a strong embrace, tongue joining his again, deep and hot in his mouth.  
Jean quickly moved on to mark his neck, greedily rolling his hips. Marco repaid him likewise, both his hands on his ass now, to keep him as close as possible and to create more friction between them with each of their thrusts.

“Keep this up, and I’m gonna dirty myself here,” Jean rasped, nibbling at soft skin.

“Am I to take this as a warning, or is it a compliment?”

By now, he could tell Marco was into this just as much as he himself was, could feel his hard cock every time he moved against him.

“That’s a rhetorical question, isn’t it?”

Marco smirked.

“What if I said I wanted to fuck you?” Jean drawled then, biting down none too gently on the patch of skin he’d just licked and sucked at.

He’d fucked his ex that way before; couldn’t be much different doing it with a man, now could it? An ass was an ass, to put it crudely.

“You’re quite bold, aren’t you, Jean?” A whisper filled with lust danced over his moist lips, joined by a tongue swiping tenderly across them. “But what if I said I wanted to fuck _you_?”

Well, fuck him sideways, he did not expect that! Marco must be one of those beware-the-calm-ones types of people.  
Jean shivered. In none of his fantasies, he’d ever imagined himself on the receiving end. It simply had never entered his mind. Not until right now, at least. And, fuck, it was exciting!

“Convince me.”

“Is that a challenge?” Marco sounded downright dirty when he said it, firmly holding him down on his lap and pressing their arousals together.

“Definitely. I’m straight, remember?” _Nah, bro, not anymore, you’re not. Not after this._

“Challenge accepted.”

“Okay then. Where do you live? Not gonna lose my one remaining v-card in some filthy toilet stall.” 

Marco chuckled, a low, rumbling sensation Jean could feel deep down in his loins even. He told him to give him a few minutes, and removed him from his lap. Jean growled at the loss of contact, but nodded  
One knee drawn up, he then sat on the couch, watched him leave. 

It seemed to take Marco forever to return. And when he finally did, Jean thought his heart was going to leap out of his chest, Alien-style.

“I’m staying at a friend’s over the weekend. He said it would be okay for you to come with me,” Marco held up a set of keys. “He lives only two streets down from here.”

“Awesome! Let’s get out of here then!” Jean quickly jumped to his feet, stumbling a little.

He hadn’t been this excited in a long, long time. His whole body was on fire. A few hours ago, he had been down and depressed. Now, he was about to experience something he’d never even considered doing.

Fuck, he was going to fuck another man!  
Or rather, he’d get fucked by one. Ah, semantics. Screw them!

 

Jean looked around the apartment in awe, standing in the middle of a large and spacious living room.  
He’d just texted Eren that he and Armin shouldn’t wait up for him. Eren wrote back, reminding him of what a condom was as well as the importance of lube—atrocious spelling and annoying smilies all the way, of course. Jean rolled his eyes at his phone.

“That’s a big apartment,” he then said, fighting down the urge to type a snarky reply. “Your friend some rich kid, or what?”

“He lives here with his partner,” Marco murmured, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Jean instantly let himself fall back into his embrace. “Was that Eren?”

“Yeah, being a dick, like always,” he blushed, pretty sure Marco had at least caught a glimpse of the idiot’s texts.

“He does have his moments.” 

Jean forced down a nasty remark, moaning softly at the hands traversing his upper body. Biting his cheek, he bared his neck for Marco to attack with his lips and teeth, head lolling to his shoulder.

”Where’s the bedroom?” He panted. Once Marco dipped a hand inside his pants, Jean knew he couldn’t hold out much longer. “Or are we gonna do it on the couch?”

Marco teasingly let his fingertips brush along his clothed cock, the fabric adding to the friction they caused. Hips jerking, Jean pressed his backside against the man’s arousal.

“Follow me,” taking his hand, Marco guided it to his lips. Tongue flicking out, he gently bit down on his middle finger, before leading the way to what Jean assumed to be the guest bedroom.

“Nice,” he stated, flopping down on the bed, and bouncing softly. “Makes for a sweet playground.”

His eyes wandered back to Marco who’d begun taking off his shirt, undoing button after button. _Fuck! Be more sexy, why don’t you?_  
Marco’s fingers were long and slender, reminding of a piano player’s. Jean couldn’t wait to feel them on his body.  
Quickly, he removed his own clothes, kicking off his pair of jeans, boxer shorts, and socks. The t-shirt was the last, and he flung it across the room carelessly.

Damn, Marco had a great body, his chest revealed bit by bit when he let the shirt glide down his shoulders. His clothes had done a good job at hiding his well-toned muscles.  
Jean reached for the hem of his boxer briefs and pulled him close. 

“ _I’ll do the honours,_ ” he drawled, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

What was that? Sounded quite close to a “fuck”. That was the second time he’d got him to use dirty language. Marco didn’t strike him as someone who cursed much. Jean grinned, slowly peeling off the last remaining piece of clothing Marco was wearing.  
While he did so, he felt up his ass, squeezing his buttocks firmly and placing a few kisses on his abs. 

_Shit, you’re not exactly small,_ Jean swallowed hard as he freed his cock at last. 

Marco sighed appreciatively, fingers entanged with his hair. Oh, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what he desired the most right at this moment.  
Licking his lips, Jean looked at him again. He loved getting blowjobs himself. He loved going down on a woman, too. He’d always got off on making his partners feel good, so he didn’t even have to think twice about what to do next. Darting his tongue out, Jean traced the outlines of Marco’s hipbone, his loins. Slowly, teasingly on purpose, he licked his way downward, hand closing around Marco’s shaft.  
He would copy the moves of his ex at first, running his tongue along the head just as she’d done to him; tasting. Swirling it around the top, as if his cock were a lollipop. Massaging its base with the tip his tongue, before moving upward, to play with the small slit already filled with clear, thick liquid. For a second, Jean let the tip of his cock rest on his tongue, mouth wide open, all the while looking at Marco, giving him the perfect view.

Marco obviously liked what he saw, his dark eyes glowing with a hunger for more. Strengthening the hold he had on his hair, he pulled his head back. Jean couldn’t stop a moan, one that Marco surely felt on his cock. Closing his lips around his glans at last, he would add more suction the deeper he took him, his own arousal responding with a twitch.

 _Getting off on sucking another guy’s dick, well, why the fuck not?_

Hearing Marco’s moans, watching him from where he sat, only furthered his own lust. Jean decided to give him a little show, thus, translating more of his own preferences into the here and now. He’d always enjoyed watching a girl do it to herself, especially so while she was serving him. Maybe Marco would enjoy it, too?  
Hand on his own length, he spread his legs further and began to stroke himself, humming as he tried to swallow more of him.

“Mhm, _Jean_ —“

He would’ve smiled, if his mouth hadn’t been full of cock. Putting more effort into his actions, he sucked him harder, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing his jaw and lifting his head. With a wet, slurping noise, his dick slid out of his mouth, leaving a trail of spit mixed with precome on his lips and chin which Marco smeared across his cheek using his thumb. So dirty! God, Jean loved it.

Next he knew, he was on his back, Marco atop of him. A hand replaced his own, continued to pump both their arousals in a slow, tantalising manner causing him to moan lowly. Grinding against him, whispering to him filthy praise, and even filthier promises of all the things he was going to do to him. Jean almost would’ve come right then and there. Sealing his lips with his own again, Marco soon was more tongue-fucking his mouth than actually kissing him. Just the way Jean liked it. Wild and possessive. Holding on to him as if he were a drowning man, he let himself be rocked into the mattress, body covered in a soft sheen of sweat. 

Jean had never been a quiet lover, but he certainly hadn’t been this vocal before either. 

“You convinced me,” he breathed against damp lips hovering just above his own.

Marco sat up. In his eyes, Jean could see the same fire burning, “Have I now?”

“Do it!” He groaned, lifting a hand and grazing the other man’s cock with his fingertips. “ _Fuck me!_ ”

Marco put a finger to Jean’s lips, reached for the drawer of the bedside cabinet. Rummaging through it, he produced a bottle of lube and condoms.

“Well-prepared, huh?” 

Apparently, that friend of Marco’s had planned for him to get laid tonight.  
Didn’t he tell him something along the lines, too? Who was that friend anyway? Did they collaborate with Eren?  
No, Jean doubted it. Eren had looked far too surprised when saw him and Marco.

“You could say that.”

Nervously, Jean bit his lip, watched Marco unscrew the bottle who was settling between his legs. 

“Turn around for me,” Marco whispered, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

Jean did without hesitation, heart beating heavily in his chest. He’d not been this aroused in quite a while, nor had he been as excited. Lying flat on his stomach, he tried to resist rubbing up against the blanket. Eyes glazed over with lust, he looked over his shoulder, at Marco, knowing well what would come next, what was awaiting him. Still, he couldn’t help but hiss when slick, cold fingers glided between his buttocks. Gentle in their touch, they massaged his opening and perineum. Jean groaned. Such a harmless, tender caress; it felt way more intense than he would’ve thought possible.  
Marco took his time, waited for the lube to warm up to his skin, softly loosening his hole from the outside, before pushing a finger inside.

“Y-you’re a tease,” Jean gasped, unable to keep himself from squirming.

Marco came to lie above him, lips to the nape of his neck. His free hand snuck beneath him, closing around his thick, dripping cock and squeezing it _just right_.

“Good things come to those who wait, Jean,” he murmured, slowly inserting his middle finger as he spoke.

Jean instantly tensed up at the intrusion, his body unaccustomed to such stimulation. Marco sensed it, too, didn’t progress any further until he managed to relax. At first, it felt weird—too full, _too much_ —but Marco seemed to know exactly what to do to help him get used to being filled, and to make him enjoy it.

More, deeper moans broke free, unhindered, and Jean experimentally moved down on the digit probing him.

“A-ahh—f-fuck—“

Marco pushed deeper, deeper until he found his prostate.  
A violent shudder rolled over him then, and Jean couldn’t keep from crying out, back arching.

“ _More_?” Marco whispered against his neck.

“God, yes, please!” Writhing, he pushed back, desiring more indeed.

A second finger joined the first, and Jean couldn’t keep still any longer. Why the hell had he never asked his anal-loving ex to do this to him, he wondered, dazed and drunk with ecstasy. If he’d had any idea of how fucking good this felt, he would have done it far sooner.  
Marco gradually loosened him, stretched him wider. Jean was nothing but a whimpering mess by the time he had three fingers stuck in him.  
Something slick was dripping onto him, and when he turned his head, he saw Marco holding the bottle of lube upside down, so that its contents would trickle right into him. A view so depraved, it had him groan.

Marco tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. Fingers deft and practiced, Jean watched him roll it over his cock with one hand and then pour more lube on himself.

“You’re killing me here, man,” he panted, working his muscles around the fingers inside of him. “You’re worse than any girl I’ve ever had—“

Marco rewarded him with the filthiest grin he’d ever seen, then gave his backside a playful smack, “I shall take that as a compliment.”

Instinctively, Jean spread his legs, well-prepared and ready. Marco took his sweet time, caressing his back, his shoulders, and thighs, hands roving all over his body, as he slowly, oh so slowly sunk into him.  
Even though Marco had made sure to loosen him as best as he could, Jean sensed he still was a rather narrow fit. 

Marco waited some more, soothingly stroking his sides and whispering dirty words to him, of how tight and hot he was around him, of how he could feel him quiver and shake. Jean moaned out loud enough for the neighbours to hear, once his cock brushed his prostate, his whole form trembling. It was too much. This. Marco’s voice. Too good. Mind going blank, his body moved on its own, hips beginning to rotate to signal the other man to get his move on.

And he got what he was asking for.

Gripping his hips tightly, Marco pulled him backwards, until he was fully sheathed inside of him. He settled for a deep, drawn out pace at first. One that had Jean moan louder and louder with each thrust.  
Gradually speeding up, Marco soon was slamming into him with force; wet, slick noises filling the room, seeping into his cries of pleasure and begs to give him more.  
Driving him into the mattress, Marco saw to it to fuck him good and hard, hard enough for Jean to feel it for days to come.

For the first time, someone actually had him scream as he came. Marco didn’t even have to touch him, his release splashing against his stomach and the blanket in a white, hot rush. Convulsing around him almost painfully, his orgasm hit him so hard Jean thought he was going to black out. He barely took note of when Marco, too, let go moments later, with one last thrust that went even deeper than those before.

Chest rising and falling rapidly, he lay there, the other man’s weight heavy on him, yet pleasant all the same.  
Soft, open-mouthed kisses rained down on his neck and shoulders, helped to calm his frantic heartbeat.

“Damn. Now, I know the true meaning of fucked silly—“

Marco snorted, giving him a gentle squeeze, and rolled off of him. Jean whimpered when he moved, left empty in a way that made him feel hollow. Not that he had any strength left to complain.

“Where are you going?” Jean mumbled into the pillow, the mattress shifting when Marco got up and out of bed.

Normally, he wasn’t the cuddling-after-sex type, but right now he didn’t want to be alone. Already, he was missing Marco’s warmth.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Moments later, Marco returned with a box of tissues to clean himself and Jean. In between wiping off his release and some of the lube, he would share a few more kisses with him.

“I definitely wanna do that again,” Jean said as he crawled underneath the blanket, exhausted.

Marco joined him and put an arm around him, “I would most definitely be up for it.”

Jean gave Marco a playful shove, smiling. He fell asleep with that smile shortly after, not once thinking about how he was lying in the arms of another man.  
At this point, he really couldn’t have cared less about Marco’s gender.

 

~

 

“Well, I did not see that coming,” Eren said, and took a huge gulp of his Vodka Red Bull.

“How can you even drink that!?” Armin pulled a face. “No kisses for you for the next hour!”

Eren ignored his lover’s outrage at his choice of drink, “Man, I got Jean laid! Mr _I’m-so-straight-I-don’t-even-take-turns-when-I’m-driving_!”

Armin rolled his eyes.

“Really didn’t think he’d go through with it! And now he’s at Reiner’s, probably getting his brains fucked out!”

“Pray tell, what exactly was your plan anyway, hm? I know you and Jean love to mess with each other, but why Marco, Eren? Why pull him into your stupid, little games?!”

“Oh, come on! You know his fucking ex was here today! We saw him when we were waiting outside.” Eren took another swallow, “That asshole keeps spreading lies about Marco, like, how he supposedly isn't over him still and shit! So, I thought, him seeing Marco talking to some hot guy—”

“What?!” 

Sometimes, Eren surprised him. Armin himself had merely hoped Marco wouldn’t run into his former partner, never thought to combine him and Jean because of a silly bet, to keep Marco from having to deal with the man who shattered his heart.

“If you ever tell that fuckface I called him hot, I’ll kill you, Armin. I love you and all, but I will kill you!”

Armin decided his boyfriend was an idiot, albeit a lovable one. Even though he tended to show it in the most weird, nonsensical, stupid ways, Eren did have his heart at the right place. Armin knew he cared about his friends deeply, was very protective of them; Marco Bodt and Jean Kirstein included.

**Author's Note:**

> In German, the suffix -lein is a diminutive. Jägerlein=little Jäger.


End file.
